This Is Water
by bloodbuzz
Summary: "Which is worse? The wolf who cries before eating the lamb or the wolf who does not?" — Leo Tolstoy


i. The first time Finnick Odair cries, it's a blistering day in August.

He's born into the ocean, the briny water stifling his initial newborn noises. The midwife scrambles to cut the umbilical cord with a jagged seashell and then he's free and welcomed into the soothing arms of his mother. She smiles with the mix of relief and pure love that only a mother can produce and closes her eyes, letting her head fall just beneath the ebb and flow of the incoming tide.

On the shore, not five feet away the little nativity in the water, Finnick's aunt and uncle wait with grasped hands as the sun beats down on the sand around them, warming it up around their feet.

Finnick's cries wane as he begins to suckle even as the tide sloshes up against his mother's breast. They stay like that for five, ten, fifteen minutes before the midwife suggests they move out of the drink and onto the dry sand.

That's when the bleeding starts.

It's all a blur from there; Finnick is ripped from his mother's breast and rushed to shore and the waiting arms of his uncle. His aunt is bordering hysterical, clinging to her husband and calling out for her only sister in small half-screams.

The patch of water surrounding his mother is dark red by now and the midwife is dragging her to shore. Merrick Odair is trudging just behind, alternating between carrying his wife's feet and thrusting his hands into his hair and screaming. By the time they're completely clear of the water, Fiona Odair's body is limp and pale.

It's a hell of a birth day, really.

* * *

ii. The first time Finnick Odair meets Annie Cresta, it's a cloudless day in the late spring before his eighth birthday.

He's walking through the marketplace with the seventy-five coins he has saved up from his last three birthdays and his odd jobs down at the piers. He's been saving his money but his father's thirtieth birthday is coming up, so he discussed it with his uncle and decided to buy his father something grandeur — or at least something as magnificent as he can afford. His uncle tossed in five coins to make the seventy-five, and he's been wandering through the marketplace trying to find something suitable for his father.

He's passed a booth for fishing rods and nets — his father had been forced to buy new equipment after a calamitous storm had blown all of the gear out of the boat, anyway. He passed the fresh fruits and fresh meat part of the market; his father would disapprove of spending money on something so ephemeral.

He's approaching the edge of the market row when he catches of a booth completely covered with homemade trinkets and baubles. Behind the table is a young girl with inky hair and an elderly woman who looks somewhere between dozing and departed.

He fingers a bracelet made of woven seaweed and browses amongst the shards of sea glass. His thumb grazes over a collection of imperfect pearls.

Behind the two women, a fishing net of seaweed hangs from a line the girls had set up. Little seashells are braided into the seaweed at regular intervals. It is exquisite.

He asks the girl for the price and she shakes the elderly woman, most likely her grandmother, awake. She speaks her price and Finnick hands her the forty coins.

A week later, he runs into the girl from the market at the seashore. She's searching for fresh seashells brought in from the morning tide and he's heading out on the boat with his father. He stops by where she's searching while his father prepares the boat for the day of fishing and searches with her. He finishes a light blue shell that's been perfectly tarnished by the pressure of the ocean and hands it to her. She smiles and introduces herself as Annie.

Finnick starts collecting seashells early in the morning and delivering them directly to Annie's booth.

* * *

iii. The first time Finnick Odair disobeys his father, he is fourteen years old.

As he's walking up the stage, he catches sight of Romy Tanir. He's about eighteen years old, from a line of victors, and he's furious. The director of the Academy is furious, too. The whole crowd is in shock and the people holding _Be Victorious, Romy _banners are lowering them slowly. Finnick climbs the steps to the stage and doesn't look back.

Merrick enters the visiting room in a flurry, with squinted eyes and clenched fists. The anger bleeds from his face once the door is closed and all he does is hold Finnick in his arms, squeezing him tight, and he doesn't let go until the Peacekeepers drag Finnick to the train.

In the Capitol, Finnick makes quick alliances with his district partner and the pair from District 1. The duo from District 2 declines their offer and wishes them painless deaths. It's as close to a comfort they can grant.

Training passes in a blur — nothing is new to Finnick — and he easily receives a training score of 10. His interview is effortless and his mentor tells him, with glee, that he already has dates lined up for when he gets back.

It doesn't really hit him that there's a real possibility he may die until the ground starts to fall from beneath him as the platform rises to greet the arena.

* * *

iv. The first time Finnick Odair kills another human being, he cries.

He sits next to the body as the hovercraft appears and takes away the lifeless body — the lifelessness _he _created. He keeps his head between his knees and tries not to hyperventilate, but the sobs wracking his body make it difficult to control his breathing. He stays there until the cannons start to go off and he sees the face of the tribute he killed — District 7, male — in the sky. Finnick stands up, slaps himself in the face, and walks away from the bloodstained rocks.

The second time Finnick kills another human being, there are no tears. He pulls the hunting knife from the tribute's ribcage and cleans the blade using her pants.

He glances over at the camera lens hidden in the tree bark, and wonders which is worse: crying or not feeling anything at all.

* * *

v. The first time Finnick Odair returns to District 4 as a victor, it is a cold day in the middle of December and snow lines the platform he steps onto.

There's frost on the windows of the station when he passes through. The fire in the hearth crackles and spits bits of embers. The receptionist, a girl about seventeen, greets them with a wide smile. She runs through Finnick's plans for the next week or so the releases him to find his new home in the Victor's Village.

Finnick halts as they step out of the station. His heart aches for the familiarity of home but as he looks around, he's seeing everything as if he were a stranger. All of the places he used to love to go are now tainted with blood — the blood on his hands, the blood he didn't spill, and the blood all the other tributes did.

He can feel his heart start to pick up and his breathing begins to falter. He wipes his clammy hands on his winter coat and says the words _in, out, in out_ in a half-hearted attempt to calm himself. Mags comes up behind him and presses a hand, gentle but firm, onto his shoulder. With her touch, Finnick's heartbeat begins to drain from his ears and he sighs. Mags had been with him in the Capitol when this happened the first time. She'd been with him in the hospital when the doctor had said _panic attacks_ and Finnick had started laughing — they could erase any evidence of physical damage, but he'd been stuck with the psychological trauma for the rest of his life.

The march to the cliffs that the Victor's Village is situated on is long and the cold wind wears them down, but eventually they see the gates that open as they approach. Mags nods at the gentleman working the levers and they walk through.

Finnick's not ready for Mags to leave him at the door to his new home, but she kisses his forehead and jaywalks to her own house next door. He turns the key with shaking, numb hands and the door opens when he turns the knob.

He steps through the threshold and into the warmth of his father's — _his _house — house and lets the door slam shut behind him. Finnick hears someone, Merrick, calling his name before his father appears through a doorway. Merrick drops the glass he's carrying and rushes toward his son.

In the arena, Finnick fought boys twice his size, but he's never felt anything as strong as the way his father grips him. Merrick doesn't let go for at least a half-hour, but Finnick doesn't mind. He's home.

* * *

**author's notes: **for alex/maraudings for the hunger games secret santa exchange! i'm really sorry if this isn't at all what you wanted, alex. thanks to hannah/gillan for editing! the title is from a speech/book by david foster wallace. it doesn't really have anything to do with this, but the title fit - i highly recommend you go read that book. please review. c:


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